Song Shuffle Challenge: Dragon Age Assorted
by Apollo Wings
Summary: Five random songs, five random quotes from within those songs and ficlets of between 300-1500 words each based on those quotes. Both DA:O and DA:II. T for some violence, death and allusion to adult situations. Hope you enjoy! If you want more I'll gladly do!


**Author's Note: **So I don't have an Ipod, but I have shuffled my extensive Youtube playlist and the first five songs will be the five scenes I do. I don't know yet but might contain Origins or DAII depending on songs... 300-1500 words each because I love to ramble on sometimes. Basically - write a fic based on the random line/s found in a random song. It doesn't even have to match the whole song - just the line/s. Fingers crossed here. I'll be using default names (Ie - Lyna Mahariel, Solona Amell, Alim Surana)

**Disclaimer: **Nothing is mine. The games belongs to Bioware/EA, the songs belong to the artists and their producers. Rated T for possible adult situations, violence, death and language. I don't know what I'm going to write yet!

(Stolen the idea from authors numerous but wanted in on it. My favourite game obviously)

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**Bat Outta Hell - Meatloaf (563 words)  
**

_"When the night is over like a bat outta hell I'll be gone."_

**Scene: F!mage!Hawke/Fenris - The after the first night. (Sooo fitting)**

Fenris pulled his trousers back on buckled his plating on his chest. He'd never felt this terrible before, but he was running away from her. He was running away from Hawke and her loving trailing kisses, her soft arms draping over his. But he couldn't do this. For one brief moment he'd remembered everything about his previous life. Then just as quickly - it was gone with a shuddering of his body as he climaxed into her. It was beyond cruel to the both of them. He just couldn't bare himself like that again. To gain and then lose it all in just an instant.

His spiked hand closed in a fist to his side and he looked briefly back at her, asleep on the bed naked as the day of her birth and glowing with beauty. To think that he could have loved a mage. She was so different from Danarius and yet in his mind it coiled that it was because of the magic that flowed in her veins that this had happened. Some magic had caused his memory to flare up for a moment and then it was snatched away. How could he even have thought of her as something of beauty when all mages were as cursed. She was his curse.

"Fenris?" Her voice echoed in the room and he turned away to the glowing embers of the fireplace, placing an arm on the mantle to steady himself. This isn't how he'd thought it out. He didn't want this awkward conversation. "Was it that bad?"

"No! It was fine!" He mentally prostrated himself. "It was more than fine. It was perfect." His voice cracked. So why was he still going? Hawke would have been there to help him as she always did. "It's just..." He turned around to see her pulling on her house robe, the red clashing marvellously against her pale skin and black hair.

"Are you ok Fenris?" She got up from the bed and stood by him, a hand touched to his shoulder and that smile etched on her face.

"For one brief moment... I remembered it all. Then it was gone." He bowed his head, he couldn't look at her while he did this. It had to be the hardest decision he'd ever made, harder than pushing past his hatred of her kind and allowing this situation to even happen. "I can't do this." And her hand slipped from his shoulder. He walked away from her, slamming the door to her estate with unnecessary force. But he had to make her think he was a worthless dog which had used her. If she followed him this would be worse. It hurt to even think what he'd done.

The sun was rising over the Hightown manisons, glinting on the rain splattered streets and shining into his eyes. He bit his lip as he returned to his dilapidated mansion. He couldn't bear this feeling that this had been a mistake. He couldn't decide which part though, his night with Hawke or his walking out.

In the estate Hawke laid back on her bed, her mind whirling over the information. She'd understood why he'd gone. It must have hurt him so much - and yet she couldn't brush the feeling of being used from herself. He hated mages but could Fenris have done something like that to her?

* * *

**Mirror Mirror - Blind Guardian (447 words)**

_"We're lost in barren lands. Caught in the running flames. Alone."_

**Scene: After Ostagar our dear Alistair, Solona Amell and Morrigan are running from the horde and toward Lothering.**

She'd never felt so alone. Stuck between an ex-templar and an apostate and tripping up on patchy grass that poked through the blighted soil. Morrigan had should her distaste for her early on, calling her a slave of the Chantry by being a circle mage. Alistair was a templar so she couldn't have even imagined that he understood this at all. She picked herself up from the ground and sent a fireball back to the hurlocks chasing them through the Wilds.

Morrigan was running as a wolf ahead them, leading the two wardens through the confusing landscape and Alistair jogged alongside her, his sword and shield ready and she fought against the hard thrum of her heart as she pushed on. They wouldn't die now. They'd survived against all odds and now they were running for their lives.

"Keep up!" Alistair shot a cold glare back at her and she bit back the bile rising in her throat from the exertion straining in her to keep going.

* * *

How they'd managed to survive only the Maker knew. She was so tired that she curled up into a ball by the fire, willing the cold away. She tugged her feathered coat tighter around her. The only present she'd ever received and from her friend Anders back in the circle and for her twenty first name-day. How she wished that none of this had happened and that she could still be there, chatting away with Jowan and Anders and threatening the templars with blank stares when they imposed their curfews.

Maker, those days were long gone. Jowan had become a blood mage and Anders escaped again. Even if she hadn't been involved with Jowan's escape she'd still be alone in the tower. The mabari hound that had found them on their run nuzzled into her back and she shooed him away. Yet another thing on her damned mission to save Thedas against impossible odds. Hopefully, come tomorrow they'd arrive in Lothering and finally make a plan on how they'd attempt this. For tonight - sleep. Well deserved sleep.

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Lothering was a bombsite of refugees, and run by templars. Solona shuddered as she passed yet another heavily armed and faceless man. There was nothing that could make her see how they chose a life of hunting and guarding mages. A mage didn't get to chose how they where born. Templars chose to be themselves. She glared at Alistair. He chose to be a templar. She was just glad he'd been quiet while they'd been making their way through the crowded village. He glared back. At least the feeling was mutual. But still. She'd never felt so maker-forsaken alone in the world.

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**Born This Way - Lady Gaga (680 words)****  
**

_"My mama told me when I was young, we are all born superstars. She rolled my hair and put my lipstick on, in the glass of her boudoir."_

**Scene: A young Elissa Cousland has to go to another ball tonight. She hates these stuffy events.**

"Stop fidgeting girl!" Eleanor Cousland raked the comb through her young daughter's hair, taming the curls into nice rolls of shining chestnut. She couldn't understand why she preferred to sweat her hours away with that massive broadsword in the training ring rather than get prettied up and go to salons with her. Maker's breath she'd never understand the logic behind that. A beautiful daughter who could dance and speak politics as easily as breathe and she still preferred the life of a soldier.

"I am being still." Elissa scowled into the mirror as her mother scraped the lipstick onto her lips and she pouted like a good girl for the make-up to cover the lips properly. "I just can't see why I have to go to another dance."

"It's not a dance, it's a ball. A salon held by Landra Loren. We have to show at least. Now hold still while I fix your ribbon." Eleanor tied the red ribbon into a bow on her daughter's back, the crimson a beautiful contrast against the pale cream of the dress. "Now come on, we'll be late." Elissa made a face and wiped her lace gloved hands down the cotton dress. Maker she hated being all prettied up like this. It made her feel like an item not a person. "I know you hate these but remember dear. You're going to be the centre of attention because you're amazing. Not because of who you are. You're my little star darling." Elissa smiled. She hated it when her mother knew how to cheer her up with that silly pet name.

* * *

The 'salon' was in full swing, the minstrels thrumming on lutes and banging drums, the wine flowing easily - too easily in the case of Landra Loren and Elissa sat dutifully at the head of the table playing with a breadstick. "I mus- I musht - I must say. Your El-elissa would be a fine match for Darrian. He's from good st- st - stock." Landra took another draw on the Nevarran Red and placed the glass back down on the table, hiccuping at the end. Eleanor gave the Bann's wife a weak smile and moved the half full glass away slowly as to not give notice to the lady. Beside her Darrian Loren blushed, his face buried in his hands.

"Darrian?" Elissa drew up from her chair and went to the blushing man. "Would you like to dance?" He pulled his hands away from his face and looked up to the vision of brown curls and cream dress that hugged to her curves.

"I er.. yes I would." He stood up, gave a short bow to the Teryna and his mother and took Elissa's hand in his, leading her to the dancefloor. The music was a lively Remigold and he laughed when Elissa put her hand out to lead. He tutted and changed the roles with her and she smiled as she allowed herself to be lead on the floor.

"I had to get away from all that. In fact - I'd much rather be outside and bashing a knight with an axe." Darrian gave a chuckle. So that was the reason she'd asked him to dance!

"So I'm not worthy of a dance?" He quirked an eyebrow and dipped the Teryn's daughter with the music, her laughter a peel that rang from the hollow of her throat.

"Oh you're quite lovely good Ser. I would just prefer to have met in a more informal setting." Elissa smirked and he twirled her round, her shoes sliding easily on the polished wooden floor.

"We could be informal somewhere else." He drew her back in from the twirl into his arms and her eyes flashed with the same dark twinkle that his did.

"Oh might we?" The smirk returned and she gave him a peck on the cheek. "I suppose I must accept such a delicious offer." Her voice dripped over the words and it stilled something inside Darrian hearing her voice low and sultry.

"An offer to a star, a beautiful, amazing star."

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**Broken Hymns - Dropkick Murphys (1400 words exactly - I rambled)  
**

_"Now the fog and smoke is lifting, From the fallen row on row... Though the road was long and winding, Many snares lay in their path, But their struggle they saw as righteous, They fought with might and struck with wrath."  
_

**Scene: An all-origins become wardens ficlet! After the battle with the Archdemon and one of their friends sacrificed himself to the Old God.**

It was over. Urthemiel was dead, a sword impaled through his battered skull. The three other Wardens dusted themselves from the ground, not daring to look at their comrade who'd charged when the beast had started to falter. Theron Mahariel was dead with the ancient dragon. Kallian Tabris rushed over to his body, thrown from the Old God and wrapped him in her arms. The Dalish warrior had been more than a friend to her. He had understood loss as she did, having been recruited when his best friend died as she had when her betrothed had. The hours they'd whiled away in camp while he taught her Elvhen and she pouted at him. When he gave her vallaslin tattoos to mark her adulthood. They all seemed so small now, so long ago. Now he was dead and nothing would bring him back. No tears would come. They'd all spoken of this moment and all had said they would take the final blow for their friends, their lovers and comrades. For Ferelden and the whole of Thedas.

Even the great battle seemed so long ago, the sound of darkspawn fleeing, released from the call of the Old God for the moment and being chased down by the armies they'd garnered. Sereda Aeducan shuffled over to the embrace of the lovers and the mage Alim Surana wiped the blood from his face and sat by the princess of Orzammar. Neither of them spoke, neither willing to break the moment.

_The battle raged around the four wardens, they'd left King Alistair and his Queen Elissa to defend the gates of Denerim with Natia Brosca, Solona Amell and all the other companions they'd gathered in the Blight Year. Purple flames battered the Dalish archers that had been order to the rooftop of Fort Drakon and Theron joined with his clanmates in attacking from afar with powerful arrows aimed at the dragon's weaker hides of it's belly. He could see the princess of Orzammar, Sereda, commanding Grey Warden when Duncan had died, her sword impaling creatures twice her size as she kept the darkspawn away from Kallian as she fired bolts from the ballistae, fixing the machines when they broke. To his side, his closest friend other than Kallian, Alim Surana, the elf threw torrents of flames into the midst of the amassing horde, burning and destroying all in it's path._

_The horn blared out against the roar and clash of slaughter and the Redcliffe soldiers entered the rooftop of Fort Drakon, lead by the Arl. The added force allowed Theron to pick up a broadsword from a fallen darkspawn. The tainted blade felt so heavy but he dashed forward nevertheless, his goal set in his mind. Urthemiel was faltering, the arrows and ballistae bolts tearing his thick hide and his black blood spewed the ground and stained. He took a deep breath. It was now or never. He whispered a prayer up to Mythal, to protect Kallian, ma vehnan. He couldn't ask another to do this. Alim wouldn't have the physical strength, it would surely kill him to have Kallian die and both the female wardens, Kallian and Sereda where too far away to take advantage of this. It had to be him._

_He ran, the huge blade dragging in the corpses that littered the rooftops. He slid in the gore and held the sword high, the underbelly of the great dragon ripping and tearing with the sharp broadsword. He escaped under the spiked tail before Urthemiel collapsed on his side and he took the moment to dash to the head of the beast. 'We cut off the snake's head.' Alistair's words so long ago at Ostagar rang in his ears as he drove the sword down into the skull. The crack was jarring and he bit back the pain coursing in his body, gripping tighter to the hilt. The bright light shone through the wound, the soul escaping the Old God and it rippled into him, tore into his own. He steeled himself from it but was thrown away from the blast._

The crowning ceremony for the new king and queen was a bleak affair, the joyous cheers of the people of Ferelden hollow in the ears of the monarchs. They'd lost one of their dearest friends. They'd lost Theron to the Old God. When Sereda had chosen which small group would be marching into the city Elissa had been beyond relieved when neither herself or Alistair had been chosen, but knew full well that it meant one of their friends, a fellow warden entering the city gates would not be coming back alive. Morrigan had left the night at Redcliffe. She bit back her anger at the witch. She'd counted the woman as a sister, they'd helped kill her mother for her and she'd left them when they needed her most. Not that Morrigan would have been able to change the events that had happened. It was just a foolish hope that a dear friend would have seen them until the end. "And let it be known, that the death of the Dalish warrior, Theron Mahariel, will not be forgotten. Never again will the people of Ferelden forget the ultimate sacrifice he made, to die while striking the final blow to the Archdemon. In payment for that, would Keeper Marethari please enter the room." The side doors swung open and a tall elf with a staff strapped to her back stepped in. She bowed to Alistair and Elissa and stood back up. "For the sacrifice of your clanmate, we give you the Hinterlands. A new place for the elves to live, to have as their own." The Keeper thanked him and stepped back into the crowds. Alistair finished the speech. The Grey Wardens stood sombre in their blue uniforms while he and Elissa stood in the finery of court. "As King of Ferelden, I instate any boon to each of the Wardens that stood with him in the end."

The crowd looked on as the dwarf and two elves stepped toward the raised dais. The three bowed to the royal couple and it was Sereda who spoke first. "Your majesties. The only boon I could possibly ask for is that my home, Orzammar is given the aid against the darkspawn in the deep roads that they have requested for so long. My brother may be King." She bit back the urge to call him a bastard but it was Natia's sister that he had married. She had shown greater loyalty to her Warden sister than he had shown her when they'd made him king. "But all the help in Thedas will be needed if we are to be a glorious kingdom once more." Alistair granted the boon and Kallian stepped forward.

She eyes still shone with the tears that had fallen since that day nearly three weeks ago. But she had to be strong like her love. He'd given his life so all could live. It was cold and the thought would never comfort her. But she was now on her own. "I ask that the elves of the Alienage are given a voice my King." She was surprised at the sound of her own voice, having not spoken for so long. Alistair tried to make her the Bann of the Alienages so that they had a voice in the Landsmeets but she passed the duty to her cousin Shianni, she would be a more vocal Bann than Kallian could ever be.

Alim was the last to stand up, using his staff as a cane he hobbled forward slightly and looked around the chamber, Maker forgive him if he was stoned for his next words. "I want the Circle to be free of Chantry oversight." The words echoed in the hall. "For too long, my brethren have turned to demonic possession as a means of freeing themselves, hurting the cause of all mages. I simply ask that the Circle becomes as a school would. Mages are free to visit families, to send letters, to not have their children taken from them at birth." Alistair granted the final boon and the two warden mages beamed. Alim hobbled back into the arms of Solona and she gave him a short but passionate kiss on his lips.

The Blight was over. They finally had won and despite the losses. It had been worth it.

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**Only Our Rivers Run Free - Tommy Fleming (731 words)**

_"I drink to the death of her manhood. Those men who'd rather have died, than to live in the cold chains of bondage, to bring back their rights were denied."_

**Scene: F!mage!Hawke and Anders (friendmancy). The Chantry had exploded and Anders bites back his fears that even though he loves Hawke and she him - she will still kill him. Sebastian threatens Kirkwall with mass carnage if he lives.**

It had been all that drove him for so long, to have Hawke and himself free from the Chantry, neither of them still in fear over the Circle. To not live in a world where they were hated for the circumstances of their birth. How he'd found that one shining light in Kirkwall and she loved him. But would even that merciful woman, her eyes filled with tears as she stared down at him perched on the wooden crate, would even she forgive him of murder?

First Enchanter Orsino left the assorted companions around the crate and the still Anders and Hawke turned to them, begging each to give her a clue as to how she could justify not killing him. Anders understood the venom of Sebastian, he knew why Fenris had said to merely grant him his death wish, Aveline's words had cut him, he knew that it was a means to an end, even if he paid for it with his blood. Merrill's words had caught him off guard. The thought of fighting alongside his love, his dearest friends, once more to save the mages from the Rite of Annulment? His heart leapt at the mere prospect. Hawke had always valued his thoughts and opinions for mages, she loved him.

"Come with me, defend the mages. It's because of you that they face this now." He turned his head in shock. Even though he'd hoped she'd spare him, he was sure that she wouldn't. Would even Hawke face war with Starkhaven for him?

"Fight with you against the templars? Damned right I will!" He stood up and grabbed her in a tight hug, relishing her warmth and her scent. He would help those he'd damned to this. It was only Justice for them. It had been a forced move, but it was right. No-one deserved to live in the shackles of anyone. It was the one thing that Fenris and he had agreed upon. Slavery took many forms and in both instances it took a strong person to shake that bondage away and fight for the rights they deserved.

"No! You cannot let this murderer walk free. So help me, once my throne is retaken I will raze Kirkwall to find you and your precious Anders." Sebastian stared manically as the two embraced. Elthina lay dead because of this man and his damned cause. He could not have him alive. She was the only family he'd had when his had been killed.

"Sebastian, killing is wrong. I will not kill to revenge another. Did it bring you peace?" Hawke removed herself from the feathered pauldons and her hand rested on the staff strapped to her back. "Were you happy to have those mercenaries killed?" She knew it was a painful way of making this point but he needed to understand. "I have lost my entire family just as you have. Both my siblings to the darkspawn and my mother murdered by a deranged killer. I can't... I can't lose anyone else." Anders wiped the tear from her face, knowing that half the reason he was alive was because she still hurt over the deaths of the rest of the Hawke family.

"You have lost me." Sebastian glowered at the two mages. "I will not fight you today, my death will not service anyone. But in time I shall avenge Elthina. I will show you true Justice." He stalked away from them and out of Hightown. Anders bit the inside of his lip. It was not Justice that drove anyone but Vengeance. There are few who are pure enough of heart to say that justice is what moves their hand. Hawke was that rare person. It was a cold Justice that he would have to live with himself while the blood of innocents fed his cause. While more would die because he hadn't.

"Come on Anders. There's mages to defend." Hawke grabbed his hand, her spiked gauntlet of the Champion of Kirkwall a reminder of the mercy and love she had for all. How she'd denied the Arishok Isabella and duelled him to the death for all the people of Kirkwall. He smiled at her as they ran toward the Gallows. She had mercy for him, and that was enough. It truly made him feel free. How many would spare the life of a murdering mage? Who else but Hawke?


End file.
